I started reading Michaelangelo Matos’s Slow Listening Movement blog. I’ve seen variations of the argument for slowing down, like the slow food movement, as a means of changing consumption habits, which in turn contribute to a different way of living one’s life. It’s an interesting idea, but I think the notion of “slow listening” should somehow address the music industry’s instistence on treating a problem with demand as if it were a supply-side problem.
You could argue that this has always been the issue with music. Whenever I think about the problems facing the music industry, I think about the music consumption habits of the people in my life. My parents were radio people. We never had much recorded music in the house, save for a few Christmas cassettes that got played on a very simply tape deck around the holidays. I think this is true for countless people, and always has been. It’s the consumption factor that fuels ideas like rockism. People want to know if the music they’re buying will stand the test of time because they can’t see themselves buying much down the road.
How did the music business respond to this? By flooding the market with tons of new product! With reissues, everything old became new! It was a utopian marketplace! Let 1,000 flowers bloom!
And bloom they did, until they wilted into the toxic mess we have today. What seemed so great at the time sowed the seeds of our present discontent. The glut of new music, including reissues of everything under the sun, seemed like a gift to us critics who yearned to hear long out-of-print albums and all kinds of bizarre recordings from around the world. Scarcity had been abolished!
Then something changed. It was overwhelming, even to critics who longed to hear rare and forgotten gems. There was no way to keep up! Yet the steady flow of new releases didn’t stop, even as the industry plunged deeper into the abyss. The solution, it seemed, to a decline in music sales was to flood the market with even more of them. If you ever needed a refutation of rational choice theory, look no further than anyone working for a label in the post-Napster music business.
Sure, scarcity was gone, but so was incentive to buy. I like to think that once people discovered that they didn’t have to spend their hard-earned (or easily borrowed) money on music, they stopped, never to return again. That money was probably better spent on groceries or whatever other necessities people desired, including the internet connection that made it all possible. Worse, I think people in the music industry mistakenly assume that the losses in music purchases are being made up somewhere in the music consumption chain, whether it’s streaming or tickets or something. I think it’s safe to say now that the whole pie is shrinking and the big players just want to grab as many slices as they can before they head out the door.
Lastly, it’s pretty clear now that even scarcity hasn’t been abolished. Digital rights have re-introduced concepts that digital delivery was thought to have made obsolete. It’s a funny business, isn’t it? Everything old becomes new again!
(You’ll note I didn’t address streaming music in this post. I think it’s a fool’s errand. New reports claim that streaming music is filling the void, but how exactly do you fill a void with more void? Unless something radically changes, even the most robust streaming music services are headed for the dustbin and, yes, that includes Pandora and Spotify.)